The grandfather clock in the hall struck three. He had been stabbed and shot, and he was feeling better than he could remember. James almost smiled.
What was it about her that made him feel? Feel everything: anger, passion, tenderness, jealousy. Vulnerability.
She was lying on top of him, long legs akimbo. James lifted a lock of honeyed hair off his chest and rubbed it beneath his nose and over his lips. The silky strands were a pleasant tickle. Lilacs. She always smelled so good. He replaced the lock and smoothed her hair from her face. Calliope sighed and snuggled closer. An overwhelming protectiveness stirred within him. It wasn’t the first time he had felt this way around her, but the enormity of it rocked him.
They had much to discuss. She had a number of questions to answer. But the pleasant lethargy was too nice to spoil, so he lay staring at the ceiling, allowing his mind to connect the pieces of the puzzle. Calliope wiggled into a more comfortable position and settled in for a lengthy doze.
No woman had spent the night in the townhouse since his father’s death. But Calliope looked right. There was no place he would rather have her be.
There would be plenty of time to talk in the morning.
Calliope woke feeling better than she could remember. She was more than a little tired. James had awakened her twice during the night. Once to carry her up to bed and the other time to… She couldn’t stop the blush staining her cheeks. The heavy red and navy curtains above her were plush and exotic. Like something brought back from the Crusades long ago. Calliope looked around at the mahogany furniture and rich dark colors. They suited their owner. The pillow next to hers carried a deep indentation that indicated it hadn’t been abandoned much earlier. However, James was nowhere to be seen.
She rose and searched for her clothes. Spotting only a deep violet gown lying across an armchair, she picked it up, running her lingers down the silk. A surge of jealousy swept through her. Whose gown was it? It was designed in an older, classic style.
Having no desire to walk unclothed through his household, she reluctantly put it on. Thankfully it was an easy gown to fasten, and she was able to do it without assistance.
On the dresser lay a beautiful silver brush set, which she used to comb her hair into some semblance of order. A matching violet ribbon lay next to the brush.
Negotiating the hallway, she found a staircase leading to the first floor. She headed for the study, made a wrong turn into the drawing room and then backtracked to find Templeton standing in the hall.
"I heard you come down, miss. His lordship is in his study. Please follow me, it’s right this way."
There was a deferential note in Templeton’s voice. And if she didn’t know better, she would say there was a more engaging manner in the way he addressed her.
He led her to the study, bowed and took his leave. She could have sworn there was a lighter hitch to his step.
Calliope entered the firelit room and found James staring at a ledger on his desk, his glasses perched on his nose. He stood when he heard her enter and removed the glasses. The heated look in his eyes warmed her to her toes as he approached.
"I hope you don’t mind wearing my mother’s old gown. Even though it is a bit outdated, I thought it might be a bit more fashionable and comfortable than your breeches."
His mother’s gown? Calliope felt her cheeks heat and cast her eyes downward. "Thank you." She suddenly felt shy.
He led her to the sofa and chairs that were grouped near the blazing fire. The same sofa that…
"Would you care for some tea? Biscuits? Something more substantial?"
Calliope shook her head and sat next to him on the sofa. He waved off Templeton, who shut the door behind him.
"Well, then, I have a question for you. How did a virgin become a courtesan and manage to remain a virgin?"
Panic flowed through her and she looked to the door for escape.
"What game were you and Stephen playing?"
Calliope pulled herself together and stammered an answer. "W-we were just waiting. He was giving me time to adjust."
James looked unconvinced.
She tried again. "You know what a gentleman Stephen is."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Can’t say that I do."
"Well, he is. He was allowing me to adjust to my new role." Calliope panicked and forced herself to continue the charade. It wasn’t time to tell him. Not yet, not when he was looking at her with such heat.
"Well, I’m not Stephen. And I want you."
"I, uh, that is-"
"Money, protection, security for life. I can give you all you desire."
The look he gave her promised just that. It made her sizzle, but visions of her mother anxiously waiting for Salisbury to appear each night danced through her head. There had always been the uncertainty and sometimes the disappointment.
"I am quite sure you don’t know what I desire."
"I know enough." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let his hand trail down the back of her neck.
The room was getting warmer by the minute and if she wasn’t careful she’d find herself blissfully entwined and begging for all he offered. Time to change the subject. "How shall we proceed today, my lord? Do you know who was chasing us last night?"
"Back to ‘my lord’ and business, are we? Pity. I could think of plenty of stimulating things we could do with the day. I suppose what I have in mind will have to wait until this evening."
Calliope tried to breathe normally and ignore his comments, even as her traitorous body responded to the look in his eyes.
"My men have been out all night making inquiries. We’ll have an answer soon. Meanwhile, we’ll stop by your townhouse so you can change."
His eyes turned mischievous. "Then we can take some air. You are looking a trifle overset."
James bundled her into his coach and they set off for Stephen’s townhouse. She hid beneath a large bonnet, another piece from his mother’s closet, in case they encountered anyone while entering or exiting the coach. They reached the residence and James talked to his two men while she changed.
The violet dress winked at her as she set it down. It was only then that she remembered her forgotten breeches and shirt. Throwing on a light tan day dress, her wig and makeup, she rushed downstairs as quickly as possible. She could hear the men talking.
"Two blokes tried entering last night. One man stood in the shadows watching the whole time. Couldn’t make out any features but he set my teeth on edge. We got the two lackwits but weren’t able to nab the third man."
"Good work. I’ll talk to them later. Stay here just in case."
"Right-o."
James caught sight of Calliope and walked toward her. The two men bowed awkwardly and left the room.
"Are you ready? I thought we might drive by Holt’s and then walk down the Strand, since we didn’t bring the curricle."
Calliope nodded. A walk sounded good. Brisk fresh air, lots of people, limited personal conversation.
They got into the coach and drove briskly until Holt’s house came into view. It looked empty. Oddly, there appeared to be no activity inside or out.
"Let’s continue. I’ll make a social call later and see what he’s about. I sent Finn to Ternberry’s to talk to the servants. Hopefully we can piece this mess together."
They reached the Strand, parked and exited the coach. The driver would rendezvous with them on the other side.
"It’s a beautiful day to be out. I have frequently wondered how the pasty ladies get by without being in the sun."